


russian to class

by itsahockeyplay



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 10:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13702653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsahockeyplay/pseuds/itsahockeyplay
Summary: Sid's just gotten comfortable in his chair — or, as comfortable as possible, considering how small and hard the chairs are — when the door bursts open and a man rushes in, clutching papers in his hands and apologies flying out of his mouth."Sorry, sorry, copying machine broke, then couldn't find stapler so these aren't stapled, then spilled coffee on half so had to go back and get more," he's saying, looking at the class with a sheepish smile on his face as he orders his papers, smooths down his sweater, pushes his glasses up his nose.





	russian to class

**Author's Note:**

> pls use [this](https://78.media.tumblr.com/5908afb15b67cb0ef0d17dfc844f9e09/tumblr_inline_p129ap13211ujbdjy_540.png) visual aid to picture college prof. geno thanks. the prompt was "prof geno and sid's his student" and since i didn't feel comfortable writing, like, a "traditional" student/prof relationship, geno's a comm college prof and sid's in his 30s, taking his class for fun. it's super short bc i don't have time to like. fully write it.

Sid feels like a freshman again.

He looks down at his phone, where he's written down the classroom number: 132. Then, he stares at the two doors in front of him: 130 and 134. No fucking 132 in sight.

He curses under his breath when he sees class has already started. He's about to do another lap — he's already done two, but maybe third time's the charm — when he turns and bumps into another person.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," he says, hands hovering in midair, unsure whether he should help her adjust herself or what.

She'd stumbled back a bit but seems to be alright. "Oh, no, no, it's totally fine," she says, laughing nervously. She smooths down her hair. "Shoulda looked where I was going."

"No, I should've watched where I was going, but I was distracted. Actually — uh, could you tell me where classroom 132 is?"

"Oh! Yeah, of course. You're in the wrong wing, actually — go to the B wing, and you'll find it there. New here?"

"Yeah. I'm taking _World War II and Russia_ , actually, but I couldn't find the classroom and now I'm late."

"It's okay, I'm pretty sure Dr. Malkin teaches that one, and he's always late to his own lectures, anyway." Sid frowns at that, but she smiles wide, sighing a little. "Dr. Malkin's great. You're in for a treat. He, um, really knows how to engage his students."

"Well, I'm, uh — " he jerks his thumb behind him " — gonna go experience that for myself, I guess. Thanks for the help. The B wing is this way, right?"

"Yeah, exactly! You'll know when you enter — the color scheme changes _drastically_ , so you'll be able to see it. Good luck with your classes! It was great bumping into you."

Sid smiles at her. "Yeah, same to you." And then he turns around and scrambles to get to the B wing. Why would you design multiple wings? Why not just have _one_?

He finally reaches the B wing, and he watches the classroom numbers as he walks past: 126, 128, 130, 132. He stop and peers into the classroom, and it seems the girl he'd bumped into had been right — there's no one standing in the front, so he opens the door and looks around for a desk.

It's a few people, fifteen at most, and they all seem to be in their late twenties, early thirties, late thirties. A couple are obviously older, and Sid sees a couple that are _much_ younger. He usually likes sitting in the front, but there aren't any seats there, so he settles for one in the middle, taking off his bag and pulling out a notebook and a pen.

Sid's just gotten comfortable in his chair — or, as comfortable as possible, considering how small and hard the chairs are — when the door bursts open and a man rushes in, clutching papers in his hands and apologies flying out of his mouth.

"Sorry, sorry, copying machine broke, then couldn't find stapler so these aren't stapled, then spilled coffee on half so had to go back and get more," he's saying, looking at the class with a sheepish smile on his face as he orders his papers, smooths down his sweater, pushes his glasses up his nose.

Sid's a little too surprised to judge properly, because he hadn't realized professors could be _attractive_. All of his had been either ancient or too dickish to be considered attractive, but Malkin seems neither ancient nor dickish. He's tall, cute, and warmth emanates from him. He seems like the kind of guy people spill their soul to, minutes after meeting him.

Malkin clears his throat and clasps his hands in front of his chest. "Yes! Good, everyone here." His voice is a deep rumble, and he spreads his arms wide, smiling. "This my gift to you — you don't have to be embarrassed for being late to first day, because I was more late. Never happen again." A few students laugh.

"Who're you trying to fool, Geno?" a man pipes up, and Sid blinks at both the way he's talking and what he calls Malkin. The man is also at least 65, minimum, but still. "I'm old, but my memory isn't _that_ bad."

"How you know if your memory is bad or not? You can't remember," Malkin — Geno? — says, drawing a few more laughs, and he looks smug. "Class, please ignore Jim — he's old and cranky, jealous of me. It's why he always take my class. Can't help himself."

Jim scoffs, but stays silent, smiling a little.

"Now, hope you here to learn about Russia in World War II. If not, in wrong class — please leave." He pauses, as if he's actually waiting, surveying the room. "Okay, good." He gestures at himself. "I'm Dr. Malkin, but please, call me Geno." He turns, pulling out some new chalk, and Sid has to stop himself from visibly reacting because Geno looks just as good from the back as he does from the front. Maybe a little better.

The chalk looks _tiny_ in Geno's hand — tiny enough, it can't be comfortable. "Here's my office." He scribbles down a couple numbers and Sid can't tell if it's a B or a D in front of them. "Will have office hours Tuesdays and Thursdays, time isn't set, but also can ask me questions after class." He picks up a stack of papers and hands them to the woman in the front. "Rosa, please start passing these."

He takes off his glasses, squinting at them and addresses the entire class as he wipes at the lens with his sweatr, "This is the syllabus. You're adults, can read yourself, everything on there — but at back, also have couple of questions I would like you to answer before we start class. Please take ten minutes to answer, because will really help me while I'm teaching."

Sid looks the questions over. Have you ever studied Russian history before, how much do you know about World War II, etc. There are five in total, and Sid answers them in a few minutes, just in time for Geno to say, "Okay, please start passing in. Don't worry, these won't be graded and you won't be punished for not finishing."

Sid passes his in, a weird knot of nerves in his stomach that he doesn't understand. Why the fuck is he nervous if Geno reads his answers? It's odd, and Sid doesn't like it, so he ignores it and focuses on Geno, instead. Geno is a very good distraction.

Geno is also intelligent, funny, and passionate, as it becomes apparent about five minutes into his lecture. He gestures all over the place as he starts the introduction, a quick overview of how the US teaches world war 2 and why it's bullshit, and he's got some chalk on the side of his pants from where he dusted it off his hands. He adjusts his glasses constantly, and has to stop in the middle of a sentence and clean them again, disgruntled, when he touches the lense and he gets chalk dust all over it.

Sid's enraptured and endeared, jotting down notes. Every now and then, a laugh is startled out of him, and he doesn't even notice fifty minutes have passed until Geno wraps up his lecture.

"Okay, on syllabus, you'll find list of few books I think are helpful. All available in library, or online, for free, so I recommend you get them," he says as students start packing up. "No assignment for next class, but I will be giving an assignment at the end of the week!"

Sid's about to leave when he changes his mind and instead dawdles, waiting for Geno to finish up with another student. Soon, it's just him and Geno left in the classroom, and when Geno looks at him, attentive and waiting, Sid realizes he has absolutely nothing to say. "Uh, hi, I'm Sid. I just wanted to let you know I...really enjoyed the lecture. It's been a while since my last college course, so I'm a little worried, I guess?" Sid wants to rewind time and forcefully drag himself out of the classroom, overriding his decision to stay, because this is just _painful_.

Geno, though, smiles. "Thank you, Sid, I'm glad you enjoy. Don't worry about this being first course in long time — my goal isn't to make it _hard_ , my goal is to make you think. If you can think, you'll be fine. If you _can't_ think, well…" He shrugs, eyebrows raised as he shakes his head slightly. "Can't help, then."

Sid laughs. "I'm pretty sure I can think, though people in my life would definitely disagree." He plays with the strap across his chest, glancing away before saying, "Well, thank you. I'll see you next class, then."

"Yes. Was very nice meeting you, Sid," Geno says, and his eyes are crinkled at the corners. "If you ever need help or want to discuss course material, please, come to office hours."

An enclosed, private place? Where it's just him and Geno? And Geno's teaching him about World War II? Sid isn't sure whether he could go through with it without embarrassing himself. "Yeah, definitely, that sounds great." He runs a hand through his hair and throws Geno his most charming smile. "Thank you, Geno. Have a good night."

"Uh, yes. You, too," Geno says, nodding, and Sid leaves.

He never thought he could be _more_ excited about learning about World War II, but it seems he was wrong. He's still smiling as he gets into his car.

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh so i actually have a BUNCH of scenes planned out for this (like.....the first time sid shows up to geno's office hours (flower's chillin' with him but geno really quickly and quite forcefully kicks him out, which, ofc, is a bad idea bc then flower's gonna get all up in his business); the first time sid lets something about "geno" slip to his coworkers (i.e., tanger and duper) who then can't stop mentioning "geno" again and again at the most inopportune times in the most inappropriate way; the way sid's all "omg you're so smart and ugh you know so much about history please......tell me about about germany's surrender again" and geno's all "omg you're so smart and ugh you want to learn so much about history please......let me regale you w tails of russian heroism"; like, an enormous amount of not-so-subtle flirting using historical references; obvs hockey has to be utilized in some way, shape, or form; etc etc) but uh. that's probably never gonna happen. if someone ELSE wants to write this though...please, be my guest. i love college prof geno.


End file.
